It's Beth, Not Johanssen
by Imagodownwiththisship
Summary: What happens when Johanssen is sleepy and locked out of her apartment? That's right, she stays over at Beck's and tries to make him as uncomfortable as possible. Rated T for swearing, just in case.


**A/N: All characters belong to Andy Weir, author of The Martian. Okay this summary sounds like the beginning of a smut story, but I'm keeping it PG 13 people! Also, thank you for reading/reviewing my last story! It means the world to me. Lastly, I dug this out of my fanfic archive and I just finished it today. Right now I'm on a Hamilton kick, but here's some Johanbeck because it's so underrated.**

Shit.

Of all the people to join the Ares III mission, NASA picks Beth fucking Johanssen. The gorgeous and endearing computer programmer to tempt me to break the no-fraternizing policy laid down by Commander Lewis.

Not to mention that I'll be trapped in a small enclosed space with her in the darkest depths of space for three years, in addition to the remaining two years of training left here in Houston.

Fuck. I'm completely fucked.

I decided to stay a little later than I normally do at the training center because I didn't feel like eating at home. I'm a terrible cook, and eating in the cafeteria was probably easier. Besides, I was hoping Johanssen might still be there. Just a thought. It's not like I'm hopelessly in love with a fellow crew mate who probably doesn't reciprocate my feelings, and even if she does, Lewis would kill me before I even set foot in space.

I'm just fantastic today, thanks for asking.

Anyway, as I was sitting down at an empty table with my depressing tray of food, Johanssen, speak of the devil, suddenly appears, carrying her customary laptop and cup of coffee, black. Always black. Totally not a stalker for knowing that.

"I am completely exhausted," Johanssen groaned, planting her face in her arms and pulling her hoodie over her head, being too goddamn cute for her own good. Seriously, no one can pull that off except for her.

I patted her arm sympathetically. "We still have two years of training left, you know."

"I know," the muffled voice under the hoodie replied.

"So," I said. "What brings you here?"

Johanssen finally lifted her head, her strands of her short hair falling distractedly around her. "I don't feel like going home," she muttered sleepily.

"Yeah, me too. It seems like too much to come here for most of my day, then go back home in the evenings. Might as well stay here for a while," I said, resigned.

She looked at me carefully, pondering some sort of decision.

"Beck, I know it's a lot to ask, but can you give me a ride home after you're done eating? I'm just way too tired to be able to drive."

Looking at her intently, I quickly realized she seemed on the verge of collapsing. Dark shadows rimmed her eyes, and she slumped against the table. Despite all of that, she was still beautiful.

I answered without hesitation. "Of course. We can go right now." I was practically done with my meal anyway, and besides, I would do anything for Johanssen.

She opened her mouth, most likely to protest for not wanting to disrupt my meal, but instead, she simply nodded.

We walked somewhat slowly towards the parking lot, not saying much. Mainly because of Johanssen, but also I had no idea what to say to her. _You look like a walking zombie and I demand that you rest for the rest of the week_? Probably patronizing Doctor Beck did not need to get involved right now, even though that was exactly what I wanted to do.

We entered my car, a lame blue Prius (PJO reference) and I turned towards her, suddenly feeling extremely awkward.

"So, what's your address?" I prayed this sounded like a friendly inquisition, rather than a I-want-to-stalk-you-and-later-rape-you kind of deal.

Johanssen mumbled her address in response, adorably curled up in the passenger seat, small enough so that her whole body was able to fit.

I began to drive, and ten minutes later, arrived at a small apartment complex that was surprisingly crowded.

"Johanssen," I whispered, because she had fallen asleep, judging from her silence. "Johanssen, we're here."

"Hmmm? Oh, we're here. Thank you so much, Beck. I really appreciate it." Johanssen leaned over and kissed me on the cheek, almost automatically, and didn't even falter. I immediately assumed it was her sleepiness causing her to act a bit drunk, but nevertheless, I still blushed.

"Anytime," I said, truly meaning it.

Johanssen lazily fumbled in her bag for a moment, most likely looking for her keys, when she paused, jolting awake in the process. "Shit!"

I glanced up concernedly. "Is everything alright?"

She sighed. "No, it's not. I just realized that I left my wallet with my keys at the space station. But," she glanced at her watch, "it's closed by now, and I doubt anyone will let me back in."

"Do you have a spare? Maybe the front desk can let you in or something."

She sighed again. "I don't have a spare key, and there's a policy about not being able to access an apartment without proper identification."

I paused, stumped. Well, not entirely, but the one option that seemed to be left would be pretty damn awkward. But, considering there were no other options...

"You can stay with me tonight," I offered, trying and probably failing, once again, to not be creepy. "I mean, only if you want to. You don't have to."

Johanssen grinned, suspiciously more awake. "I'd love to. I'm curious to see what kind of nerd hideout you live in."

I almost sighed with relief. That could have been bad. Instead, I smirked.

"Says the girl who stays up until two a.m. playing Pokémon Dungeon Explorers."

Johanssen held her hand to her chest and pretended to look offended.

"For your information, I once made it to level twenty-two in a single night on that game. You have no right to criticize me. I am a champion."

I rolled my eyes. "If you say so."

I pulled out of the parking lot and began the short drive home. Fifteen minutes later, we arrived at my small condo.

As soon as we stepped inside, Johanssen grinned. "I knew it!"

Along one side of the wall was a floor-to-ceiling bookshelf, laden with only medical journals.

"You're such a dork," she smiled warmly, teasing still, but sounding almost appreciative of my dorkiness, which, let's face it, is one of my strong suits.

Other than the medical journals, my condo was pretty bare. A small kitchen with a outdated white refrigerator, a two-seater brown leather couch in front of a minuscule TV, and a narrow hallway which led to my bedroom and a bathroom opposite.

I dropped by keys on the kitchen counter and disappeared into my room. As I started digging for an extra set of pajamas, toothbrush, etc. I called out, "make yourself at home. I'll be out in a sec."

When I returned to the living room, I found Johanssen still gazing around, probably trying to come up with more insults to throw at me.

Sighing amusedly, I dropped an old t-shirt, some sweatpants I'd outgrown, and an extra set of toiletries on the couch. "Here. The clothes should probably fit you, but unfortunately, these are the smallest things I own."

Johanssen looked up gratefully. "Thank you."

She paused, more hesitantly than she usually is, but plowed ahead anyway.

"I'm sorry, this must be kind of awkward, with one of your crew mates you barely know staying with you. I mean, I know I tease you, but I'm really grateful you're letting me spend the night here."

Johanssen walked over and gave me a great big bear hug. Once again, I blamed it on her sleepiness, but she wasn't yawning anymore. In fact, she looked completely awake.

I pulled away, placing my hands on her shoulders. "Are you okay? You were ready to collapse in the car but you look fine now. Is something wrong?"

Johanssen grinned mischievously. "Yeah, I'm fine Doctor Beck. Great, in fact. But tired. Do you know where the bathroom is so I can change?"

She gestured to the pile I had given her and scooped it up. I rolled my eyes at the new nickname she had given me, but pointed my thumb over my shoulder and responded, "down the hall and to the left."

"Thank you." Johanssen sauntered to the bathroom, leaving me wondering what game she was playing at.

A short while later, Johanssen emerged, looking adorable in the slightly oversized clothes I had given her. I was already mentally preparing myself for the fight that would ensue about where to sleep.

"Alright," I said. "It's getting pretty late, so let me just grab some blankets and I'll sleep on the couch-"

"No," Johanssen responded predictably. And instead of saying what I thought she would say next, _I'll sleep on the couch_ , she said, "we'll both share your bed."

I turned around so fast I was afraid I got whiplash.

"Wait, did you just say you wanted to sleep with me?" Realizing what I had said, I quickly added, "I mean, sleep in the same bed as me, not sleep with me, like you know, sleeping together, but I mean-"

Johanssen cut me off again for the second time that night.

"You're so adorable when you get flustered. Come on, Chris." She took my hand and dragged me to my bedroom, where I immediately unfroze and said the first thing that came to mind.

"Did you just call me Chris?"

Johanssen rolled her eyes. "You better not call me "Johanssen" anymore after getting to know me so well tonight. It's Beth."

 _Holy shit, what is going on_ , I wondered. _Johanssen wants to sleep with me_ _and we're on first name basis_ _now_?

Johanssen crawled into my bed and patted the spot next to her. "You coming?"

I reluctantly obeyed, not because I didn't want to get closer to Johanssen-of course I did, I was just wary of her plans.

Once I had plopped down next to her, Johanssen leaned forward until I could clearly see her warm hazel eyes, and she said, honesty filling her voice, dead serious, "I really like puppies."

I couldn't help it; I burst out laughing, the sound of it soon joined by Johanssen as our laughter mingled together to fill the room.

"Ah," Johanssen still giggled, wiping a tear from her eye. "I got you good didn't I?"

I chuckled in agreement. "Definitely. I thought you were actually going to tell me something important."

Johanssen smiled. "Well how's this for important: I really like you Chris. A lot."

I gaped at her, slack jawed and all. _Say something, you idiot!, I thought. You have to tell her how you feel or else she might think that you rejected her!_

I muster up my courage and intelligently utter, "um."

Beth's face drops slightly

"Oh. It's okay, we can still be friends, I just thought-never mind, it was stupid. Let me go grab my stuff and I can sleep on the-"

She only has time to say that much before I'm crashing my lips against hers. She lets out a yelp in surprise, but recovers quickly, responding with equal enthusiasm.

Finally, I pull away, both of us gasping for air.

"In my defense," I say sheepishly. "That's what I really wanted to do when you told me, it's just I was in shock and I wanted to tell you how I felt really quickly, so, yeah" I end awkwardly, rubbing the back of my neck self-consciously.

Beth stares at me, an excellent poker face masking her emotions.

"Beth?" I say hesitantly. "Oh shit, did I move too fast? Did I fuck things up? I'm sorry, you know what, I think it's time for me to move to the couch-"

Cutting me off one last time, Beth Johanssen copied my movements and crashed her lips onto mine, pulling apart just seconds later.

"No," she grins. "That was perfect."

And, continuing where she left off, smothers me with kisses.


End file.
